


Magically Allocated Terrific(Terrible) Espousals

by DistractedDaydreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Female Harry Potter, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Marriage Law Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDaydreamer/pseuds/DistractedDaydreamer
Summary: The marriage law passes, and it turns out the algorithm is a Caelum/Harry shipper. None of the living beings think this is a good idea, but maybe the algorithm is onto something…
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 180
Collections: Rigel Black Exchange Round 2





	Magically Allocated Terrific(Terrible) Espousals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tamari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamari/gifts).



“You won’t like this,” Millicent warned.

“I won’t like what?” asked Rigel as she took a seat at the Slytherin table.

Millicent hesitated, clearly considering what to say next. “It’s a special edition of the Prophet,” she finally said, and proffered the article she was holding. “Read it.”

Rigel glanced at the page, and immediately felt sick to her stomach. Could this be real? Had it already happened? Across the table, she saw Draco wince. _Breathe_ , she forcibly reminded herself, clamping down on her emotions.

“The law passed last night,” said Pansy softly. “They spun it as shoring up unity and the strength of the British Magical community, especially under the threat of domestic terrorism.” Rigel noted the diplomatic tone and the hint of warning underneath despite how numb she was feeling. Pansy knew her well enough to know the news would horrify her, and knew the world well enough to know that she should hide that as best she could. 

Millicent had turned back to Tahiil, continuing a discussion that Rigel seemed to have interrupted. “Yes, lesser-bloods have a choice, but it is restricted. The SOW party is arguing that the law is in favour of incorporating the lesser-blooded into our society. In fact, it means to take a stand against those who would say that they should be excluded.”

“Lesser-blooded?” Rigel asked, with an edge she was unable to keep out of her voice.

Millicent looked at her apologetically. “It’s the term they’re now using for halfbloods and muggleborns - the law applies to both, though it only affects those with higher-than-average potential. Magical potential, that is.”

“Read the article first,” admonished Blaise, “It’s really quite… enlightening.”

With a feeling of dread, Rigel flipped back to the first page of the article, and started reading:

> _**Arithmancy Algorithm Unveils Most Eligible Lesser-bloods Who Qualify For M.A.T.E** _
> 
> _M.A.T.E., Magically Allocated Terrific Espousals is the most exciting part of the bill passed by the Wizengamot last night, in response to threats by Voldemort on our premier school. This terrorist group attacked the World Cup last year, and several organisations employing or supporting those with lesser-blood. Since then, they have only grown more bold, with an attack on the Ministry, as well as graffiti in Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Their rhetoric is confused and their tactics futile, but what they represent is a rejection of all those lesser-blooded._
> 
> _SOW has decided to take a stand against this rejection of our lesser-blooded witches and wizards. They believe that while one might be born with wild and limited magical reserves, as a result of their parentage and upbringing, a select few exceptional halfbloods and muggleborns might be able to be helped. The new law passed helps halfbloods and muggleborns access opportunities set aside for purebloods, provided that a charitably-minded pureblood is willing to adopt them into their family via marriage. The spouse and the family they marry into will provide a tempering and guiding influence on those of lesser-blood in order to integrate them into our wizarding society. For children under the age of 7, they may be directly adopted into these families and be raised by them, hence helping them to overcome their disadvantage of their birth._
> 
> _The law provides incentives for purebloods to reach out to those of lesser-blood, through economic incentives and employment benefits; specific benefits and circumstances are laid out at the back of this booklet. Those lesser-blooded extended this offer benefit most generously, gaining access to the rights and privileges of a pureblood accorded by law, as well as the opportunity to socialise with and be schooled by their spouses family. Read about the terms and conditions further at the back of this booklet._
> 
> _The Ministry has proven itself agile and quick to respond to threats, with this adaptive Artihmancy algorithm which can calculate accurately the most beneficial pairings to Magic. Despite the short notice, the Algorithm has analysed a selection of the fifteen most eligible halfbloods in our society today, bringing attention to some of these exceptions who might be quietly working and hoping for love among us. Hopefully, circulating this information will help Wizarding Society make optimal decisions about their matches. After all, marriage is a magical bond, and cements a lifetime partnership; choose wisely for yourself, your family and Society._
> 
> _To ensure that the law isn’t cheated, a magical seal will be placed on the wands of the betrothed couple, indicating their status is to be wed. When both parties reach their majority, the couple must be wed. To reflect the favour the pureblooded family is doing the lesser-blooded fiancé, only the pureblood has the power to break said seal. The exception to this is if more than one family is eager to sponsor the exceptional individual; in that case, both the individual and the purebloods have a say in the final betrothal, so as to ensure the most eligible match possible. The Ministry is happy to arbitrate on any dispute or provide any clarification needed in this matter._
> 
> _Read more…_

Only once she finished the article did Rigel realise her teeth were so tightly clenched together, in an attempt to maintain a neutral expression, that they were starting to hurt. Draco was eyeing her warily again; she checked her occlumency out of habit to make sure her anger wasn’t leaking out. The switch from halfblood and muggleborn to lesser-blooded was clearly not to group the two and promote unity - not when the word constantly reminded purebloods how “inferior” others were. Plus, the booklet only profiled halfbloods - a clear assumption that muggleborns were not “eligible”. No, the word was to make explicit the threat. 

A sneaking suspicion began to creep into her mind. She flipped to the back of the booklet. Scanning the terms and conditions, it didn't take her long to spot the fine print - while purebloods were only encouraged to marry non-purebloods, the latter who were considered "exceptional" were only allowed to marry someone whose names ranked within their top 10 matches, or wait till they were 35, in order to have their marriage recognised in wizarding Britain. So as Millicent put it, they did have a choice…but would have to wait 18 years past their majority to access it. Provided they weren't caught and trapped into marriage first. It was a classic carrot and stick approach: be legally discriminated against, or snare a purebloods spouse and watch the doors open for them. It was brilliant, and horrifying. 

_Stop moping,_ Rigel thought. _You need to know what they are saying about you._ Grimly, she flipped through until she found her name.

> _**Heiress Harriet Potter, daughter of Head Auror James Potter, potions savant and healer-in-training** _

On the right of the double page spread, two images moved: her, presenting her Shaped Imbuing potion at the healers internship, and Archie, wearing that shimmering blue travesty of a dress, smiling and winking during the yule ball. Looking at the two images side by side, she felt so very relieved that her past self had come up with the modified polyjuice potion. While she could pick out the differences, she was sure no one else could, even with the close-up photos.

And yet the article unnerved her even more than the pictures. Each advertisement (for what else could she call it - they were being sold to the highest bidder!) in the booklet detailed the halfblood’s personal history from the moment they were born. It covered their known strengths and previous relationships, their genealogy... It listed what was known or speculated of their magical power. And it listed the proposed matches.

Rigel read through her article carefully, measuring each fact against her memory, searching for any sign that the reporters were near to the truth. The article was peppered with quotes from people who knew her, but no one really close to her was featured. Mr Ogden testified that she was a brilliant young woman who had saved his life, yet declined the life-debt offered through her humility. Mr Hurst had complimented her potions skill, revealing she was the youngest intern ever recruited. Snape - Snape!! - had said she had an “ _exceptional and inventive mind_ ” and that he _“was certain her discoveries would be published in a potions journal before her majority”_ (She had to read that again despite the terrible circumstances she was in). But while comprehensive on publicly available information, they were light on information dangerous to the ruse.

They had a few short anecdotes about her personality from AIM classmates, who described her as “ _academically focused”_ , _“fun loving and great sense of humour”_ , and _“a giant nerd”_. While her parents might raise an eyebrow at the second one, people who knew her would easily write it off as her sarcastic wit rather than Archie’s joie de vivre; better still, none of those interviewed originated from Britain. And nothing mentioned that Harry often passed for a boy at AIM - they must have thought it would weaken her appeal. They noted that she volunteered on occasion at the lower alleys clinic, and was seen with her friend Hermione - but they hadn’t noted any of her other associations with the lower alleys. Instead, they focused on Sirius’ charity work at St Mungo’s and “Rigel’s” healing studies, and speculated that she came from a nurturing family and was also very affected when Diana died. Not a bad assumption for the public to have. And while Goldentower had revealed that she took correspondence classes, the article only said that she supplemented her foreign learning with classes from Britain, indicating a strong interest to reintegrate to Britain upon her return.

She had no idea how they had managed to make “Previous Relationships” into a whole section rather than a single sentence. It listed Archie as her betrothed, and the terms of their betrothal, filed with the ministry. The article seemed to pay special attention to the clauses around the breaking of the betrothal, the non-exclusive clause during the betrothal length. A few remarks about the closeness of her friendship with Hermione and they had implied successfully that her betrothal to Archie was a sham…not a great rumour to have going around about her. And worse, she saw the clause that all betrothals were broken by the new law unless signed by magic; the two of them would have to renew the betrothal under magical geas as soon as “Harry” was back in the country.

Known strengths and genealogy were as expected, though she was relieved to see that the article only had speculations about her true magical strength. They pinned her at average power-levels, a dark green colour. That assumption was based on the fact that they had never seen any indication that her magic was strong in public appearances, her own confession that she took a long time to brew her potions while waiting for her core to recover, and balancing that against her mother’s magical strength and the predicted power of her offspring. They also noted, peevishly, that AIM refused to release the results of her magical testing - and Harry sent a silent thanks to whoever had put in place that policy. One less thing Archie would have to worry about mimicking.

All matches were only drawn from an acceptable age range around the candidate. Each set of matches began with five emblazoned names that were the “best” matches, but continued on with more names below. Archie wasn’t in the top fifteen, and she scanned the list till she spotted his name much further below, above Draco and under Zhou. She scanned back up, reading the top 5 names while ignoring the magical output predictions of their potential children. She didn’t even want to think about that.

Alesana Selwyn. Caelum Lestrange. Leo Hurst. Marcus Flint. Aldon Rosier.

Her top match was… Selwyn? “But Selwyn is engaged?” Rigel wondered out loud. “Why would they even put her name into the algorithm?

Pansy winced. “No one around our age was exempt, Rigel. And her wedding is scheduled for a few months from now, so they had the right to do it.”

“Anyway, these matches don’t have to happen, its up to the pureblood. Even if Selwyn’s parents are opposed to Rookwood, they aren’t likely to favour a match with a halfblood,” added Draco. “So I’m reasonably certain the marriage will go through once they can reaffirm their betrothal.”

“That’s not even the most surprising match,” commented Blaise. “Doesn’t the Lestrange heir hate halfbloods?”

“Seems like a disaster,” said Draco. “But I really doubt they were sorting based on compatibility of personalities, just the magical potential of possible offspring.”

“Wait, didn’t your cousin intern at the guild with him? That must have been difficult,” commented Theo.

“Actually, they get along pretty well. Apparently he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” Rigel had only been half paying attention to the conversation, or she would have seen the looks of shock, disbelief and surprise on her classmates faces. Her focus had been stolen when she spotted Professor Snape making a beeline towards her - That rarely meant good news. As he approached, their section of the table fell silent.

“Rigel. Lord Riddle wants to see you regarding the final task. Are you finished eating?”

She looked down at her plate which was virtually untouched. Her appetite was gone anyway, so she just nodded and slung her bag of books over her shoulder and followed him. She would bet her brewing time that the tournament was not the reason why Riddle wanted to see her. No, the bastard probably just wanted to gloat, she thought bitterly. After all, he was getting what he wanted.

* * *

With the curtains drawn across her bed, and several of the strongest silencing charms she knew around her, Rigel knew she could finally risk talking to Archie. It was early evening for him, but close to midnight for her, their regular call time. She had sent a signal that they needed to discuss this through the mirrors - leaving the mirror facing the article, so that he could read it before they talked. But even with the way her thoughts whirled tornado-like through her mind, the two of them couldn’t easily change their schedule to discuss. So now she sat, legs pulled up to her chest, holding the mirror propped up in one hand as she hugged her knees. Soon enough, Archie’s face appeared in the mirror. Behind him, she could see the familiar sight of his dorm room, with the bookshelf of potions books she knew he rarely pulled out and the medicine journals he frequently perused.

“Cuz…” he said, with a teasing look in his eye, “You really need to get less overbearing friends.”

Harry blinked at him, astonished. That was not what she had expected him to say. “I… what?”

Archie waved one hand, holding several letters. She couldn’t make out the text, but could tell even through the mirror that it was all high quality parchment and elegant penmanship. 

“Marriage offers. Or rather, courting offers, but most of them are probably hoping for marriage, considering how quickly the mail came in. There’s even an invitation from the Parkinsons to a small courting tea over the summer break - did Pansy tell you about that? It doesn’t really matter though unless we’re interested. We can’t renew our betrothal quite yet due to the law, but you’re enough of a hermit to avoid anyone on your list from coercing you until enough of the names above mine get married off, and then the two of us can go back to being affianced.”

Harry didn’t know what kind of expression was on her face, but it must have been bad, because Archie changed from his practiced lighthearted cynicism to something more serious and sincere. “Harry, are you okay? Please don’t beat yourself up about this - you’ve done the best you could to stop this from happening. What’s important now is making sure the two of us are safe, and I think we’ve done all we can to be untouchable on that front.”

She knew he was trying to be sympathetic, but she couldn’t help but ask: “Archie, what about Hermione?”

“Hermione…” his face fell slightly, then steeled itself. “Hermione will understand. I love her, but I made a promise to you first, and I won’t turn my back on that. Besides,”- and here his face brightened with forced levity- “Maybe you’ll fall in love with one of these poncy purebloods, and then the two of us can get married sometime in the future. Or, we’ll find a way to repeal the marriage law, get a convenient divorce, and then I can pursue Hermione while you live a happy hermit life with your potions. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Harriet couldn’t help a small smile at that - she would like that - but it disappeared almost as quickly. “I don’t want you to have to make that kind of sacrifice for me though.” She saw Archie readying himself to protest with more vehemence, and raised a hand to stall him “I don’t want anyone I know to be forced into a marriage they don’t want…and Riddle offered me a deal.”

“What deal?” asked Archie warily.

“He wants more public support for M.A.T.E, and plans on holding a few balls and public marriages to cement the law as a fact of wizarding life. And to do this, he wants me, that is, Harriet, to be one of the prime halfbloods marrying up. I said before that he couldn’t bargain either of us against each other, he suggested another deal. Rigel, and his friend circle in Slytherin gets a pass from political pressure to marry via algorithm. He removes his pressure on the Selwyn parents to break up their marriage, even though they are susceptible to the fade. And in return, Rigel marries someone of lesser blood who he is magically compatible with, and Harry marries someone with whom she is likely to have lord-level babies. And both of us become poster-children for his marriage law, and don’t publicly campaign against it for at least a year.”

“And you’re considering that?” Archie asked incredulously. “Harry, Riddle is treating you like a broodmare!”

“Yes, but in return Pansy isn’t pressured to marry Greengrass of all people, Rookwood and Selwyn can have their marriage go off without a hitch, and Archie, provided that you and Hermione are magically compatible, can pursue her without any complications or restrictions. In fact, Riddle will bend over backwards to make sure things go well for the two of you, since it will serve his agenda. To sweeten the deal, he also said that he’ll support a relaxing of the restrictions for those affected by the law, and we get a say in that. Just…”

“Just what?”

“Its all contingent on if I can actually get someone on that list to marry me. Lord level babies means top 10 names or so, so I don’t have that many options...Still, it’s worth a try, right? Aldon said he was interested in courting her- I mean me, so if he was serious I could try. And Leo…” She trailed off. She wasn’t sure how to describe what Leo’s feelings towards her were.

Archie sighed. “I think the more important question is if you’re okay with marrying them. Like, can you trust them? The rights they give the pureblood over their spouse are awfully restrictive - I know I’d never exercise them and neither would Sirius, our head of house, but you need to figure out if you can trust them, and I’m not letting you do it unless you’re certain you can.”

“You can’t stop me if they decide to propose,” warned Harry stubbornly.

“I know, just-” Archie ran a hand through his hair, looking for the right words. “It’s your choice, but I want you to be safe and happy more just as much as you want your friends to be. And unlike your friends, you’re already in danger’s path.”

“I know,” Harry said softly. She was touched by Archie’s concern, but she was still sure about her decision to try. She would just have to be careful.

“Lets go through those letters then, okay Harry? I haven’t really read them, just opened the first few because its not often you get so much mail..” Harry nodded, so the two of them began to read together.

They read Leo’s first. _Harry, I’m so sorry to hear that the law has passed and that you’re stuck in this position. I’ve never been glad for your betrothal to Black before, but now I’m thankful you have at least one option with someone you seem to trust. Some things are more important than love. I wish I could offer you another choice. Right now, the situation in the alleys is tenuous - I’m not certain it could bear the extra scrutiny. All the same,_ if there’s anything I could do to help, even just being a listening ear, you know I’m on your side… The letter went on for a short while, but Harry could read between the lines and come to her own decision. While Leo would have been okay with marrying her, he had other duties he wouldn’t give up; similarly she couldn’t ask him to and wouldn’t respect him if he did. So Leo was right out.

Aldon’s letter she expected, no matter how uneasy it made her feel. After all, he had essentially asked Rigel directly about courting her, and made his interest explicitly clear. Archie didn’t seem shocked either - after reading the letter, he scoffed, smiled at her, and commented that it was exactly what he expected - a request to get to know her better, toeing the line of flirty and familiar. At her questioning look, he clarified that Aldon seemed to really like her and went out of his way to invite her to dance - twice - at the Yule ball.

“I only accepted once!” He clarified hastily. “Didn’t want to give him any ideas, plus I really don’t know how to follow. We ended up talking for some of it, and I suppose he’s really not too bad. Smirky and smug like the rest of the Slytherins, but oddly sincere. Nicer than some of your other friends.”

 _Sincere, huh_ , thought Harry. She’d wait before agreeing on that - she still didn’t understand what Aldon wanted from her. Besides, she had really never thought about him that way before.

The rest of the letters were mostly from people she didn’t know well, and much more formal. It seemed Archie had been right when he commented there would be a few more interested in her hand after the ball. These had an uncomfortable number of compliments - on her green eyes, on her charm and poise, on her scholastic achievements. Really, the only one she’d be happy to accept were the compliments about her potions - but it was clear that none of them had read or understood what she had done. They were probably just in it because she was the daughter of the head auror and the economic benefits.

The one breath of fresh air there was Pansy’s invitation - short and sweet, calling back to the gala she had attended and saying that she would very much like to get to know Rigel’s dear friend better. Pansy was truly a blessing. And even though it was dangerous for the ruse, she couldn’t help but ask Archie to respond with a friendly affirmative.

The biggest surprise was a letter from Caelum Lestrange. A very short, very confusing one.

> _Potter-_
> 
> _I’m sure someone has already told you the news, even in your backwater school. The SOW party has passed its marriage law, and everyone is buzzing. I happen to be back in Britain - Master Whitaker and I are indexing our many findings, and they are sure to be published in the next periodical. Unfortunately for me, this means I am subjected to my mothers diatribes on blood purity and the dilution of Society. While her mental gymnastics in trying to both condemn the policy and support the SOW party are interesting, I can think of much better ways to spend my time. Improving your shaped imbuing method, for instance. Honestly, could your notes be any more obfuscated? I would think you did it deliberately to weed out the plebeians, but your childish idealism implies you really had no idea how unprecedented it was._
> 
> _I can’t be bothered with pleasantries any more. There’s something I need to discuss with you when I next see you. When will you be back?_
> 
> _-Caelum_

After they had finished the letters, there was silence. Archie perused the letters, frowning, and Harry just tried to think. At this moment trying to make plans felt like trying to plan the steps for free brewing ahead of time. There were so many variables - and she still couldn’t imagine herself married to anyone. Especially someone who didn’t know about the ruse. In time-turned time, she knew that she was about a year older than she should be, which meant any magically enforced contract would come into play a year or so early. Which made it especially vital to make sure that Riddle upheld the other end of his deal - if he did, and relaxed the restrictions, she would be able to avoid it until the time that she should be 17.

Thinking about Riddle made her remember the other thing she needed to talk to Archie about.

“Archie, you need to apply to AIM to go with Hermione to the next task. They’ll tell you soon that they plan on letting all of the champions and ex-champions bring guests, because they want to celebrate the end with another gala. Aside from that, Harriet has to be there - Riddle wants to assess her in person.” She grimaced. The very notion of being around Riddle when she was “herself” - or even Archie being around Riddle pretending to be her - made her grimace. But this was the deal she had made. It was the only option she could see where she could live with herself. It would just have to be enough.

Archie seemed ready to protest, but took in her expression and sighed. “Talk me through it cuz, and I’ll lecture you about how reckless we’re being afterwards.”

* * *

True to his word, Archie managed to finagle his way into coming to Hogwarts for the next task. AIM was sympathetic due to what limited news they had heard from wizarding Britain, and were willing to let him miss the last part of the school year after some impassioned appeals from both “Harry” and her parents. 

Archie had managed to convince Lily and James to support his returning early by making veiled comments about how worried Rigel was in their mirror calls. He played up how he thought Harry would really be able to support Rigel if he could only be there. Then, he convinced them to drop the matter by implying this had been shared in secrecy because Rigel didn’t want to worry his family members, and would feel even worse if they brought it up. 

It made him feel a little bad that he couldn’t tell them anything. But while it wasn’t true, what he said was hardly a lie. Harry’s face, worn and pale, and the way she had clutched at the blankets during their call, kept swimming in his mind's eye. He couldn’t be there for her last year - he would do his best to be there for her this year.

Archie sighed, bringing himself back to the present, preparing to go to Hogwarts. He checked the anti-wrinkle spells on the changes of clothes he had figured out for Harry. Lily had been eager to help, and sent pictures of several that she thought Harry might like, and Archie had settled on a dark green dress that clung but was more conservative that the dress he had worn for Yule. More elegant, but still not totally divorced from the style he had originally chosen - he was sure that Harry would stand out in it, which was what they wanted. The thought still made him feel angry. Hadn’t Riddle already put so many obstacles in their way? Why Harry, again? Harry was always sacrificing and sacrificing, taking the risks, facing the hard decisions. He would rather step in the way of this curse for her - but of course fate had other plans. And now he had to put their plan into action

He arrived early enough before the last task so that he could give Harry a big hug and spirit her away for half an hour. Watching her face relax, even the slightest bit, made him feel a bit better about this plan - he knew she loved her friends, but as Rigel she could never let her guard down. He brought her to her lab, and she brewed an easy potion from her medical kit to fill the time like they did when they were kids before she had gotten her wand. Through the task, he sat with the Weasleys, trying vainly to control his expressions as Harry risked her life pretending to be him and coming way to close to dying. At one point, Ginny rested a hand on his to remind him to loosen his grip, and he realised he had been clenching the bag he had brought so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. 

When Harry won, he turned his attention back to the plan. The two of them were going to meet Riddle right after the task, where he would play the perfect poster-child halfblood genius Harry Potter and secure the vow they needed. Then, they would go to the room of requirement so Harry could wash up quickly, and they would swap. Archie would dress up as Rigel, playing the weary and taciturn champion, and avoiding discussion of the final task, and Harry would be free to socialise with her potential beaus. While they would do the first dance together again, they planned to split up for most of the event to enforce the idea that their betrothal was now technically broken. And after the ball, Room of Requirement again, so that Archie would be able to convincingly talk about her experience and explain a version of their marriage plan to their parents. The tournament might be over, but there was so much more to do. 

* * *

“You look beautiful, Harry,” said Archie when he noticed her fidgeting with the ribbons on the side of her gown. “Ready to go catch you a pureblood?”

“It would be easier if I could run in these,” Harry joked, looking down at the gold heels with straps that wound around the ankle. The dress was comfortable enough, and looking at herself in the mirror she felt, objectively, that she looked pretty nice. Her hair that Archie had helped her lengthen before they left the Room of Requirement was braided away from her face and held in place with gold pins and a delicate chain. Pansy had done wonders with lash lengthening and darkening charms, as well as subtle blush and lip tint made her feel like she was looking at a different person in the mirror. Well, more than what she felt on a regular basis anyway. 

It felt wrong all the same. The way the dress clung and swirled when her normal robes were more structured, sturdy and tailored made her feel off balance. She didn’t even want to talk about the impractical heels. She missed the satisfying clod of her potions boots.That uneasiness didn’t fade much as she followed Archie and her friends to the ball. There, she picked at her food - Harry wasn’t known to be a vegetarian, so the plate for guests had a lovely steak that she felt sub-zero interest in consuming. Archie, noticing, casually offered her his appetiser of caramelised maple cauliflower, but she just smiled wanly and waved it away. She would go down to the kitchens and eat later, when she didn’t feel so nervous. 

She danced on autopilot, remembering this time that as a halfblood, everyone would expect her to be following instead of leading. Every time she forgot, she pulled out The Face, modified with Rispah to be more more charming than innocent befuddlement, and lamented that as a halfblood she wasn’t invited to many balls. Some of them were easier to get through than others - the Weasley twins made up their own steps and startled a laugh out of her. Pansy’s dance was more comfortable than she thought it would be, even if they did spend quite a bit of time discussing herself in the third person. Pansy was attentive and kept the conversation light and welcoming without any pressure, and Harry was once again reminded how lucky she was to have her as a friend. 

Rigel’s friend, her mind corrected. Thinking of her alter-ego made her look for Archie, who was chatting with Zhou animatedly. But across the crowd, the side profile of a familiar aristocratic face distracted her entirely. Caelum? Caelum Lestrange? Her mind started to race as she made her excuses to Pansy and made her way through the crowd towards him. She needed to know who Lestrange had given his _Liberespirare_ to, and how it had gotten into the hands of Owen, a muggleborn who shouldn’t have had contact with him in any way. Aside from that, she wanted to know why he was here at Hogwarts - he hadn’t participated, and while guests were invited, she had no clue who had invited him.

While she was trying to be subtle in her approach, it didn’t surprise her to notice that Lestrange was projecting nonchalance but watching her intently. He lounged in the corner with catlike grace, one hand holding a glass of champagne, the other hidden in his dark blue dress robes.

“Potter,” he greeted.

“Lestrange, what are you doing here?” said Harry in reply. “You never replied to my letter.”

Was it her imagination, or did he blush? “Sorry. I needed to talk with you in person. Can we find some place more private?” 

Harry could only nod to conceal how unsettled that made her. Lestrange, apologise? It was as unlikely to happen as Riddle not being a megalomaniacal pureblood supremacist or Draco not reaching for strawberry tarts. They made their way out of the hall. Luckily, a new song had started, so most eyes were on the dance floor and she thought they managed to slip away relatively unnoticed.

The party seemed to have spilled out of the hall somewhat - in the first two rooms she checked, small groups were playing exploding snap and just chatting. The third room was worse. The moment she caught sight of Theo and Smith canoodling, she backed away so fast she bumped into Lestrange. His arm came up automatically to steady her, and looking up to apologise, she was surprised to see he didn’t even look annoyed. 

“Maybe if we go up or down a floor we won’t run into any more hormonal teens or giggling gossips. Do you understand how the staircases move? Since you were here at the last ball, you have the advantage over me.” 

Oh, that’s right - Harry goes to AIM. She shouldn’t know how the castle works. All the same, she really didn’t fancy wandering around the castle pretending to be lost. And…her stomach, sensing an inopportune time, decided to grumble. Maybe…

Lestrange taking a half step away from her and releasing her elbow made her realise that she hadn’t said anything aloud yet. “My father told me about a Hogwarts secret,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to find it the last time I was here, want to go looking with me?”

A few passageways later, she arrived at the portrait to the kitchens. “You have to tickle the fruit,” she said, looking at him mischievously. 

He frowned at her. “You just want me to make a fool of myself, don’t you.”

“Well, yes, but you still have to. It’s the way in.” 

She thought he was going to refuse, petulant, but he just exhaled. With an aggrieved expression, he reached out with one finger and gingerly scratched the pineapple. Nothing happened, and he glared at her. Harry couldn’t help but giggle at how funny he looked, but took pity on him. Stepping up beside him, she tickled the pear, making sure she caught the expression of surprise on his face when the portrait slid open after all. 

“Welcome to the Hogwarts kitchens. The house elves can whip up anything you want - or at least, that’s what my father said. Do you mind if I eat?” Surveying the kitchens, she saw that it was still busy despite the meal having been served - the heavenly smell of baking bread was permeating the room, and some elves were still vigorously washing up. Her stomach growled, and she felt glad that she had come up with this idea. It was a bad idea not to have eaten when she had expended so much energy on the tournament. Plus, whatever conversation it was that Lestrange wanted to have would surely go better with ice cream. 

Lestrange shook his head, still watching the bustling activity. So when one of the house-elves appeared in front of them, she took the liberty of asking for some for him as well. The elf lead them to a table at the side of the kitchen, and the two of them sat in silence for the minute or so before the elf returned with a scoop of sea salt caramel ice cream for each of them, Harry’s served over a warm fudgey brownie. When the elf left, Harry asked her magic to set up some silencing charms, and turned to Lestrange.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what flavour you’d like. I’m just going to eat. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Your engagement.”

Harry frowned. She had no idea where this was going. “My engagement? I was engaged to Archie, but the law broke all existing marriage contracts. The law didn’t rule out renewing it though.”

“I know, I read the circulation. That’s good,” Lestrange seemed to be trying to hide it, but Harry could sense he was nervous. About what? She would try to set his nerves at ease a bit.

“Guess you were right that I would have to worry about whose heads I would turn sooner rather than later. You must have read my matches too - isn’t it funny that we were paired?” 

But Lestrange seemed to tense instead. “You think its funny?”

“You…don’t? I thought you would hate having your name bandied about with a halfblood’s. You even deny that we’re friends in public.”

“I…know. I do.”

“It’s really okay,” she rushed to reassure him. It was a foreign feeling to look at him seem so off-balanced and pained. She took another bite of her dessert, thinking, trying to think of what could break the strange atmosphere. Lestrange ate a bite of his icecream as if it had personally affronted him.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but Lestrange interrupted her. “I do consider you a friend, you know. I wouldn’t invite just anyone to Dartmoor Castle.” The words came out quietly, almost haltingly, but without a trace of doubt. 

Harry smiled, warmed by both the confession and the effort it clearly took him to say it. “I consider you a friend too, Lestrange.” As she said it, she was surprised to recognise it was a true statement. A year ago, she thought they were more than acquaintances but less than friends. But now, after brewing together, meals together, and letters - no matter how bratty they were - she definitely considered Caelum Lestrange her friend. She shook off the thought as she let the sweet and salty ice-cream melt on her tongue. “But as touching as I find it, I’m quite sure you didn’t come find me to declare your friendship. What’s on your mind?”

Lestrange, who had relaxed slightly, became suddenly very still. “You have to wait until I explain before you object.”

“I’m waiting right now, Lestrange," she said lightly.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. “Bellatrix wants me to marry some foreign pureblood I don’t know, and give up potions to manage our businesses. So I need… a favour.”

“What favour?” asked Harry. Her mind was whirling, but she didn’t have time to think about the bombshell he had just dropped before he dropped another one. 

“Will you marry me?”

It felt like the world stuttered to a stop. Harry just stared. Stared at Lestrange’s painfully beautiful face, oddly earnest and vulnerable. Stared as though in staring she would understand what on earth made him decide to ask that, and how on earth she was going to ask him to explain himself. 

Thankfully, she didn’t have to ask him - he started rambling an explanation on his own. “It would be more like a marriage of convenience for the both of us, and you stand to benefit as well. I need to marry someone before Bellatrix makes a decision for me. I’ll be considered head of house if we wed, so you won’t even have to deal with the in-laws.”

“And while you’re helping me, which I’m sure will appeal to your ridiculous altruism, I’ll be helping you. The Lestrange heir is a catch, and even the algorithm agrees - it’ll ease your way in society to have made such a prodigious match. The two of us are the best pair of up and coming potioneers in Britain - I’ll support your dreams, because you know I have similar ones.”

“And you can’t possibly want to marry your naive “cousin”. You grew up with the imbecile. In the four years he’s been at Hogwarts, he’s been the centre of rumours and trouble, the attention seeking schmuck. I know you, Harriet. I see you. You want to be respected for your potions ability, revered in the field you’re actually revolutionising without even thinking about it - not dragged into a media circus and overshadowed by your pea-brained clot of a cousin. Rigel seems like the sort to pressure you to pop out technically pureblooded baby brats to satisfy his ideal of the perfect pureblood son. I know Regulus is keen on it happening, and I’d bet a thousand galleons that’s not in your five year plan.”

“Don’t marry him, Harriet. You can do so much better.”

Instead of responding, she took the last bite of her dessert to give her racing thoughts time to quiet down. Of all the things she had expected Lestrange to say, that speech was not one of them. It had come out all in one gushing burst of words, as if he had rehearsed and repeated the reasons to himself. But what her brain latched on was _I know you, Harriet._ How could he know her - and yet he sounded so certain. So sure. How? 

Yet out of all the people she had met living her double life, Caelum, strangely enough, was one of the people she was most honest and relaxed around. It was just so easy to forget herself around him, to lose herself in banter and trading witty insults and thinking about how to rile him up. When he said that he knew her, that he saw her, she wanted to believe him. 

Aside from his vitriol about her cousin - that was really vitriol about herself - he had actually made very good arguments. From the information that Lestrange had, Rigel really did seem like he wanted to get himself in trouble - and yes, Harry didn’t like it one bit. If Rigel actually was a separate person, she’d certainly never want to marry him. And she really didn’t want to marry Archie, even if she hadn’t made that deal with Riddle. Lestrange was one of the top choices, even if she had never seriously thought he would like her that way. Then again, she reminded herself, he didn’t. It’s just a convenient match for him. 

On thinking about it, Lestrange actually was the best option. Alesana was right out. Marcus Flint would never entertain it - Archie had concurred with her assessment and added that Marcus preferred men. Which left Leo, who was untenable because of his position, Caelum, and Aldon. And while Caelum had been prickly, and unpleasant, and bigoted, he had grown on her. She knew she could spend extended time in his company, at least when brewing, having both excited conversations on esoteric potions knowledge as well as companionable silence. He would never ask her to compromise on her potions. She knew what he wanted from her - an escape from the path his mother had planned for him - and she could resonate with that, after the drastic measures she had gone to to change her own fate at eleven. 

Lestrange was pushing the melting remains of his ice cream around the glass bowl, his movements graceful and unaffected. She might have believed he was truly bored and nonchalant if it wasn’t for the high flush in his pale cheeks and the way his ears were still crimson. 

“If I agree to give this a shot, I have a few conditions,” she said. 

Lestrange looked up warily. “What are they?”

“One, I want a trial period till the end of this summer where I can change my mind. Two, I want a vow that you won’t use or abuse the laws in M.A.T.E. against me. Three…” she trailed off, not sure what else to add. “Three, I get to add more conditions to this list, within reason, when I think of them. Or in other words, you respect my boundaries.”

“Deal,” Lestrange agreed hastily. 

“That was quick,” Harry said. 

“Says the girl who decided to marry me in the time it took to finish a dessert.” 

“Touché.” The absurdity of the situation struck her then, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “No one is going to see this coming. I certainly didn’t.”

“Maybe you should have,” said Lestrange, with a quiet intensity that made her breath catch.

“Lestrange, what do you mean by that?”

“You should call me Caelum if we’re courting. No one will believe it otherwise.”

Harry blinked. “Okay, Caelum. Then you can call me Harry” 

“Harriet. Everyone else calls you Harry.”

Something in his tone struck her as odd, but she decided to ignore it. She also decided to ignore the fact that she liked the way he said her name, saying it like it deserved attention. Instead, she smiled at him. “Sure, call me Harriet.”

She didn’t know what set it off, but Lestrange became stiff again. “Do you want to meet at the potions guild next week? We can book a lab and I can show you my improvements to your shaped imbuing technique.”

“That sounds great. I’ll send you an owl when I’m free?”

“Don’t take too long about it,” sniped Lestrange, without any heat behind it. “I need to be going, but I’ll see you next week then?”

“Count on it,” replied Harry. Idly, she noticed that his ears still hadn’t returned to their regular colour. “Bye, Caelum.

He nodded at her and got up from his seat, politely bidding the house elf who had served them farewell, and disappeared out the portrait hole. At that moment, Harry remembered that she still hadn’t asked Caelum about the _Liberespirare_. Nevermind. It would keep till she saw him next.

She found she was looking forward to it.

* * *

> _Caelum,_
> 
> _I’m busy Saturday. Archie gets out of Hogwarts Friday, and we’ve scheduled a board games tournament with the whole family to see who can steal his title as champion. My money is on Remus, he’s wickedly good at strategy._
> 
> _Sunday morning I’m meeting Master Snape for our collaboration. Did you read what he said about me in the paper? I’m so happy I get to work with him - but you don’t have to be jealous. We can meet up to brew and you can tell me what you did over the school term Sunday afternoon, and I can introduce you to him, since we’re friends and all now. I know you respect him as much as I do. Or if that doesn’t work for you, I’m free the rest of the week except Thursday._
> 
> _Your friend,_
> 
> _Harry_

He was not nervous. It was not anxious energy that was leading him to smooth out his robes for the fourth time when he knew they hung straight already. And if it was a little apprehension that had led him to pick out his nicest pair of brewing robes and spend roughly twice the amount of time to look effortlessly well put together, he just wanted to make a good impression on Master Snape. He was also adamantly not thinking about how he didn’t care one whit if Master Snape thought he was attractive, so it had to be that he was worried about the halfblood brat’s opinion, which made no damn sense because he knew he was objectively beautiful.

He straightened his robes for the fifth time outside the brewing room that the receptionist had directed him to, and firmly told himself to stop thinking the thoughts he was not thinking. Rapping on the door twice, he waited for Harriet’s lilting voice to invite him in, and cracked open the door.

Master Snape was standing near the cauldron in his signature black robes, bottling a dose of whatever potion the two of them had been brewing. _Damn_ , thought Caelum, _guess she really **wasn’t** pulling my leg when she said they were collaborating together_. Not that he thought she was anymore, but sometimes it was hard for him to tell when she was lying glibly or telling the truth.

Harriet turned to look at him and smiled. She waited for Master Snape to finish, then spoke up to introduce them. “Hi Caelum. Professor Snape, this is Caelum Lestrange, one of those I interned with; he’s apprenticed to Master Whitaker.”

“It’s an honour to meet one of the greatest minds in our field,” said Caelum sincerely. He hadn’t overlooked the narrowing, calculative look in Snape’s eyes as he noted the use of his first name. It was indiscreet to have a halfblood say his name with such fond affection, but he couldn’t help the rush of pleasure and satisfaction he felt hearing it from her mouth.

“I am gratified at the Lestrange heir’s compliment. It is good to see that the younger generation doesn’t share the olders’ prejudices,” Snape remarked in a dangerously silky tone.

Caelum could easily hear the warning there, and the question underneath. After all, the Lestrange family was notorious for being some of the strongest supporters of the SOW party line, and his parents' vitriol was barely tamed by being in polite society. And if it hadn’t been deadly obvious, the widening of Harry’s eyes behind him gave Snape away. It was just like her to be surprised that her idol would be unwelcoming to those he felt unworthy of his protege. He would just have to show he was different.

“Harry once told me that all potioneers are on the same side, that of research. And truly, halfbloods like yourself and Harriet are exceptional researchers more than equal to any others. After studying Wolfsbane for myself, I truly appreciate the difficulty you must have faced and your stunning ingenuity in your improvements published last year.”

“It would not have occurred without the timely help of my assistant, Rigel Black. I believe you are acquainted?” Snape didn’t seem convinced. Caelum had to bite back his instinctive disparaging reply, which would win him no points with the potions master.

Instead, Harriet jumped in. “Yes, I think they met twice at the SOW parties.”

“Indeed?” He turned his probing gaze on Harry instead. “What does your betrothed have to say about you gallivanting about with someone who has made no secret of his disdain of his family?”

Harriet glared back, green eyes blazing. “Rigel would say nothing, because we are not presently engaged due to the law that affects us both. And furthermore, it is none of his business what I do and who I choose to spend time with. And neither is it any of yours.”

Snape’s expression gave nothing away to Caelum, being half turned away from him as it was to look down at his collaborator. “I apologise. Still, you must mind the precarious position you are in. Appearances are important at present.” 

Harry’s expression seemed to soften. “Understood, Professor.”

Snape nodded to the both of them in farewell, picked up his bag, and swept out of the room without any further words. There was silence for a moment, before Caelum broke it. 

“Well, that could have gone a bit better.”

“Sorry about that, I didn’t know he would react that way. You sure you’ve never done anything to offend him before?”

“He’s just protective over you. And his brat Rigel, I suppose.”

Harriet laughed - _laughed?_ \- “Why would he be protective over us?” she asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious to anyone who had eyes. _Because he’s never taken apprentices before, and now he’s taken two from the same generation, one of which was a bloody brilliant prodigy?_

“If you even need to ask that, your cauldron fumes have addled your mind to a dangerous degree. Or spending so long pretending to be dense has actually made you stupid,” he snarked, to avoid making another embarrassing speech like he did last time. To distract her, he reached into his potions satchel, and pulled out the gift he had brought her. It was traditional to bring a gift on each date of the courtship, and while they hadn’t explicitly said that this was a date yet, he still wanted to give her something. 

“What’s this?” asked Harriet, but she was already leafing through it. Protective charms kept the book safe and unblemished, and while the binding he had managed was by no means professional, it did reinforce the cover and hold the pages tightly together. The title read El Conocimiento, and the front featured detailed drawings of a plant she didn’t recognise being added to a cauldron. While the left pages were written in the same foreign language, each page on the right had what she assumed must be an English translation. A few of the pages were bookmarked with extra parchment, covered in the elegant curlicue of his own handwriting - notes on the translations, potions and plants he had taken.

“It’s one of the local potions periodicals from Chile, regarding the differences in European potions needed for the American variants of common healing potions. They had an interesting insight into how the potency of the feverfew can be reduced if not stored adequately. Interestingly, they experimented a lot with drying versions of certain ingredients for preservation, and how this enhanced the strength of some and weakened others. I added my observations and what I learned while I was there on this topic - they have a rich oral history, and much of their learning isn’t preserved in the books. I…thought you would be interested, since you study healing as well as potions.”

“Wow,” said Harriet, overwhelmed. Caelum felt a thrum of self satisfaction at how she couldn’t take her eyes off her present and the awed tone in her voice. “No, I mean yes, you’re right. I am interested. A limited edition potions periodical? On a topic that I’m studying? Translated, bound, with notes and the parts you thought I’d like highlighted? This is so thoughtful - I…” Harriet floundered, trying to find the words. Her green eyes shone, and he felt almost lightheaded. “Really, thank you Caelum. I’ve never gotten a gift like this before.”

His ears were turning red again, he could feel it. He looked away, knowing it wouldn’t hide it at all, but feeling unable to meet those grateful eyes. “I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if you could read Spanish, actually, since I never expected you could speak French. You still haven’t told me how you learnt it.”

Harriet paused for a moment, and Caelum wondered if she was going to tell another one of her lies. Perhaps she would continue to insist a house-elf taught her, or maybe she would make up that her whole family took yearly holidays in Paris. “Actually, my mother speaks it,” said Harriet. “She’s trying to teach Addy so she’ll grow up bilingual. Then she’ll have options like Beauxbatons, which accept a few halfbloods,” she added.

Caelum didn’t know what to say to that. He shifted uncomfortably, before he noticed and stilled himself. Harriet looked at him, a bit too knowingly, and he knew she knew that he didn’t know what to say to that reminder of the prejudiced society they both lived in. 

“So, you said I could choose dinner. Any strenuous objections to Aroma Alley? Wait, don’t answer that, you’d probably just object on principle.”

He shrugged, raising his arms in an ironic casual gesture as if to say _well, you got me there,_ but he couldn’t keep the small smile off his face. “Are you really so hungry right now to be thinking of dinner when we haven’t even had lunch? If you really want, we can go out and grab something before brewing.”

“Nooooo, don’t make me wait any longer,” remarked Harriet lightly. “I’ve been waiting with bated breath to discover what possible improvements you could have made to my shaped imbuing method. Anyway, I packed some pastries from the bakery in the lower alleys - want one?”

Pastries, potions, and Harriet Potter. Despite himself, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is more pre-relationship than actual relationship fluff! I tried :') Barely betaed, please comment if I missed something.


End file.
